


i'm sorry, sir

by dragneels



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Panic Attacks, Parent Steve Rogers, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Joins the Avengers, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-War, Tony Angst, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 09:20:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14615130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragneels/pseuds/dragneels
Summary: Mr. Stark, I don't feel so good.He doesn’t sleep much; Peter’s face haunts him every time he blinks. It’s his punishment, right? It’s his punishment for seeking out Peter when Cap and he were fighting, for giving Peter a new suit, and for letting him play a superhero—friendly, neighbourhood Spiderman, Mr. Stark—in a war that he should not have been a part of.It’s his punishment for thinking that he could take care of someone without fucking it up.And he takes it.WARNING:that this contains pretty major (??) spoilers for Infinity War Part 1 and i don't recommend reading it if you haven't watched the movie and don't want to be spoiled.





	i'm sorry, sir

_"Mr. Stark? I don’t feel so good."_

Even after the Avengers defeat Thanos, Tony can’t look Peter in the eye. To everyone’s surprise, the moment the infinity stones were taken away from Thanos the chaos became undone: those that disappeared, returned in the same spot where they were when they vanished.

The excuses pile up after a while. In the beginning, it’s mostly an apology saying that he has a lot of work to do; after all, cleaning up after an intergalactic war might take longer than a simple afternoon. He promises himself, though, that he’ll go and talk to Peter, and they’ll figure out where to go from there. But he keeps at it; he avoids Peter at any gathering they have, forcing himself to hide in his lab, turning away any attempts Peter makes to talk to him, even commanding JARVIS to turn off communications to the lab.

It then becomes avoiding Peter in general. When the boy comes to visit, Tony finds it to be the perfect time to either start a new project or have a meeting for STARK industries that, for some odd reason, requires only him and not Pepper—which he supposes isn’t a weird reason at all. The timing, however, _is_ odd. He still checks on him, though, sometimes flying over his apartment, asking FRIDAY to read him his vitals. But he never gets close enough to even get a glimpse of Peter.

Instead, Tony sees Peter in his dreams—well, JARVIS and Steve call them nightmares, but potato-potahto. And he can’t shake off the image of Peter clinging to him, half of his body already dematerializing.

He blames himself, of course. Anyone can see that. He drinks himself silly, tossing bottles around his lab as he continues to tinker on some side project he can’t even remember planning out. It’s a coping mechanism, he tells himself. _Keep your hands busy, Stark, keep your hands busy._ As if it was the only thing keeping him alive, he holds the mantra close to him, sometimes spiraling out of control.

Tony forgets to shower. He’s gone three days before without taking a single step out of his lab and wonders how long he could go for. Pepper drops off food a few times during the day, making sure to add a bottle of water, along with clothes for the day … or night, and tries to keep the caffeine (and alcohol) limited. Tony always finds some stashed somewhere in his lab. More often than not, even if Tony assures her that he’ll eat, it’s Dum-E that goes to grab the food with clear instructions from JARVIS to place it right in Tony’s line of sight.

He doesn’t sleep much; Peter’s face haunts him every time he blinks. It’s his punishment, right? It’s his punishment for seeking out Peter when Cap and he were fighting, for giving Peter a new suit, and for letting him play a superhero— _friendly, neighbourhood Spiderman, Mr. Stark_ —in a war that he should not have been a part of.

It’s his punishment for thinking that he could take care of someone without fucking it up.

And he takes it.

* * *

_"I don’t know what’s happening."_

Tony and Pepper break up a little over a month after post-war clean-up. She loves him, and he loves her, but he’s not sure that she can ever look at him— _trust_ him—without wondering when the next battle will appear and when he would disappear. She loves that about him, she promises, but it isn’t enough for her. Pepper calls it a selfish desire for her to want Tony to place her first above all, but he gets it. He’s the selfish one.

It’s amicable. Pepper stays in the New Avengers Facility for a few more weeks after that, making sure that Tony stays alive, but even she has to go back to work. She leaves with clear instructions, though, marching right into his lab with her pantsuit and heels oozing authority, waving a finger in his face.

“You need to get out,” she states. There’s a firm set to her lips. Tony’s familiar with her no-nonsense stance, but he still can’t seem to bring himself to move away from his latest project. The blueprints above his desk flicker off; Pepper’s involved JARVIS.

Tony breathes out through his nose. “Pepper, I’m fine. Is the kid still here?”

She swallows, “Yes. He’s been visiting every single day— _every, single day—_ to speak to you.”

“Tell him to leave,” Tony mutters. His hands shake when he lifts them off the edge of the desk; so, he shoves them in his pockets in hopes that she won’t notice. “Pepper, please. Tell him to leave.”

“No,” she shakes her head. Tony watches her deflate, shoulders dropping. She still looks strong as she takes a few steps forward into his space, but worn out. Her fingers are warm against his cheeks and her eyes look so bright. Tony relishes in his first source of physical contact in weeks. Her nose brushes his, “Tony, you need to talk to him. He’s here for you. He cares about you.”

“I–I can’t,” his voice breaks. “I can’t.”

“You can’t hole yourself up in your lab. It’s not healthy,” Pepper insists.

Tony scoffs, “I’m a workaholic, Pepper, it’ll never be healthy. Besides, I need this and you know it.”

They stand still for a few moments, foreheads together, before Peppers breaks away, kissing his forehead gently, and leaving the room, a small sniffle slipping out. Tony braces his hands behind him against the edge of his desk.

The room spins. The only refuge he finds is when he shuts his eyes hard, ignoring the tears that fall, and tries to breathe.

One. Two. Thr—One. Two. Three. Fou—

The sob that wrenches out of his chest echoes.

It doesn’t take more than a day after Pepper leaves for Steve to come walking into his lab, acting like he owns the place. Tony glares at him when he pokes Dum-E and looks right into U, shuffling around his lab. He’s wearing the clothes Tony first met him in, all the way back to when the Avengers first formed … when he hadn’t fucked everything up.

There’s a lump forming in his throat. He pretends he can’t feel it and goes about his day, changing small details for the next device he’s making. Steve settles at the side of his desk, a chair pulled up, when he visits.

He shows up every few days, at first, and then makes it a regular occurrence to sit by Tony as he works, reading a new book. When Tony puts his head down to take a nap, Steve takes it upon himself to read aloud, whispering words in an almost melodious way. That’s the first time he sleeps without nightmares in over two months.

Tony still sees Peter when he’s asleep; the nightmares continue after that one peaceful break. He sees Peter stumbling and tripping the night when Tony meets him in his room, revealing the secret Peter thought he was so good at keeping. He sees the awe lighting up his face when Tony gives him his new suit right before they go to fight against Steve. Tony breathes in relief with every passing memory of Peter where he smiles.

Peter’s face still haunts him. His words on Titan bounce around Tony’s mind, but all he can hear, in the middle of his lab, is the broken sound Peter makes as he wraps his arms around Tony.

The thrum begins in his ears before he can gather himself. Tony rubs at his chest, gasping at the air, trying endlessly for another chance to breathe. He forgets Steve’s in the room until his warm hands wrap around Tony’s, pulling away from his chest, and intertwining their fingers. Steve doesn’t touch him anywhere else. He’s grateful for that.

“Take a deep breath, Tony. Come on, now, with me.” His voice is loud and clear against the noise, pulling Tony back in little by little. “You’re doing great. Let’s count together.” Tony tries to nod, only succeeding in giving a small jerk of his head.

“One.”

“Two.” Peter lies on the ground in front of him, his brown eyes still wide and wet, flitting between the sky and Tony.

Peter’s hand disappears. “Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.” _Please, sir …_

“Six.” Tony shudders, using his hands to pull Steve closer to him. He burrows his face in Steve’s neck.

“Seven,” Tony croaks out. Their hands are between their chests, still intertwined. He feels Steve’s lips brush the top of his head. Peter’s disappearing … he’s almost gone. _I’m sorry_.

“Eight.” Peter’s eyes seek his out. Tony watches his lips move to mouth words, but they never make it out.

Peter disappears entirely. “Nine.”

“Ten.”

Tony opens his eyes.

Steve pulls back, looking Tony right in the eye, and says, “He’s still here. He will _always_ be here with us.”

“Not if he stays with me,” Tony murmurs.

Steve shakes his head, pulling their hands up to press his lips against them. At the touch, Tony’s eyes flutter close, taking in the moment. “Especially, if he stays with you.”

* * *

_"I don’t … I don’t want to go, I don’t want to go."_

Steve manages to pull Tony out of his lab. It takes a while to convince him that there isn’t anything in his lab that is more important than showering and sleeping. In fact, if there was something important in the lab, then it was only another reason as to why Tony should be taking care of himself.

“To be at your sharpest requires a night of rest,” Steve states as they walk side by side down the hall towards Tony’s rooms.

Tony squints, scowling, “I don’t think that’s a phrase that people say.”

“They did in my time.”

“No,” Tony shakes his head, a teasing lilt to his voice, “I don’t think so. I think you’re full of crap, Cap.”

Steve gives him a glare. Tony would have been afraid if he didn’t catch the relief on Steve’s face. Great, he’s made another person worry about him. There’s nothing Tony Stark does better than hurting others, is there?

“Now,” Steve starts. He leans against the door, watching Tony pull out clothes and move towards the shower. “Take a shower. And then sleep. Captain’s orders.”

Tony gives him a mock solute. When Steve leaves, Tony lets out a sigh; pretending to be okay takes a lot out of you. The heat from the shower burns his skin and Tony’s harsh rubbing doesn’t help. There’s this hallow feeling in the centre of his chest—behind the arc reactor—that threatens to swallow him whole. He slams his hands against the wall, his back facing the water. Breathing doesn’t come as easily as sobbing. 

Tony sleeps in his bed for the first time in weeks, often having resorted to sleeping on chairs or sofas, refusing to enter the bedroom that he once shared with Pepper before he fucked everything up.

Photographs remain on his bedside table, framed memories of what was once okay. When he picks one up, it shakes in his hand, but he can’t see that beyond the tears that blur his vision. Tony makes out the vague figure of Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Thor, and Clint from the original mission they all banded for. In the center, he sees himself; Steve’s tossed an arm around his shoulders and those smiles, while worn out, still look bright.

He blinks. Setting the photo down, he brushes his fingers on the wood, his tired body beginning to give up on him for the day. The feel of paper stops him. He tightens his grip and brings it closer to his face, unable to find the energy to sit up, dangling the small piece of paper in front of him.

 _~~Dear~~ _ _— ~~Ton~~ — ~~Iron M~~ — Mr. Stark,_

_I just wanted to say I’m sorry for ~~whatever I di~~ following you into space when I really should’ve been listening to your orders. And also, thank you! For, you know, saving my life. If you’re ~~mad~~ upset with me for doing that, I’m really sorry, sir. You gave me a new suit and I betrayed your trust. _

_I’ve been coming around to see you. Ms. Potts says that you’re busy, working on something. And Mr. Rogers keeps insisting that I keep trying._

_I’m sorry if I upset you, but please let me in._

_~~Spider-m~~ _ _Peter Parker ~~~~_

Tony sucks in a breath, his entire body shuddering at the sheer amount of energy it takes him. Tony wants to scream and shout that no, it wasn’t Peter’s fault. Nothing was his fault. It was Tony’s!

If Tony hadn’t fixed Ultron, they wouldn’t have been in the position to sign the Accords. If they hadn’t signed the Accords, then Rhodey wouldn’t have been injured, and Steve and he would have still been close—still been friends—before all of this happened. Then, he would’ve been prepared for what Thanos would bring; he would have been beside someone he worked perfectly with, despite their arguments.

Then, he wouldn’t have had to see Peter almost die. He wouldn’t have almost cost a boy his life.

* * *

_"Please, sir, I don’t want to go."_

Steve makes an executive decision with JARVIS, neglecting to inform him of anything until it was simply too late, and he had a brown-haired boy standing in front of him with his bag haphazardly slung over one shoulder.

Tony takes one look at him and walks out of the kitchen, blaming his hallucinations on the coffee in his hand and not his body. He tries again, after taking a few breaths in the hallway.

He still sees Peter standing in the middle of the communal kitchen, eyebrows raised and a puzzled expression on his face. Behind him, Steve looks a little apologetic, but stands straight.

“He’s not supposed to be here,” Tony mutters, his hand pointing to Peter. He straightens up, “Kid, you’re trespassing. And you, Cap, are not allowed to make decisions to reroute JARVIS without me. First off, I don’t even want to know how you could make decisions with a complex program that; besides me, barely anyone understands the intricacies.”

“No, JARVIS made the decision and informed me,” Steve said, shrugging.

Tony scowls, “He can’t do that.”

“Yes, he can. You’re the one who gave him the upgrade. The one that allows him to make decisions that, if I remember correctly, ‘puts the safety and health of each and every Avenger above the wishes of the aforementioned Avenger’. He made the decision regarding you.” Steve leans against the side of the wall, staring Tony down.

“JARVIS,” Tony starts, bringing up the coffee to his lips, praying that his hands won’t shake, “can’t do that.”

“Actually, sir. It is quite the contrary. In the new upgrade, you do insist on the health and safety of every member, including Ms. Potts and Mr. Happy, and particularly, including that of Mr. Rogers and Mr. Parker. It was only logical that meeting them would be beneficial for your health,” JARVIS chimed in.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter cuts in before Tony begins to argue against the AI. “Did you get my letter?”

Tony keeps his eyes behind Peter on Steve, shooting him a glare, and nods. The hollow feeling in his chest gets a little bigger. 

“Okay, um, so, what did you think?” Peter asks, eagerly nodding his head.

Tony doesn’t trust his voice, so he nods and hopes that Peter gets the hint that he’s just not up for conversation right now. It’s up to Peter to determine whether or not to take it offensively.

“Okay, um, well, just in reference to your previous statement,” he makes a face at his choice of words, probably unsure if he’s used the right ones. “I’m not trespassing.”

“Yes, you are. It’s for Avengers, and authorized personnel, I suppose, only.” Tony raises his brows. Checkmate, kid. Time for you to get out and let the only images of you be the nightmares that keeps Tony up at night.

Peter jokes, “Well, Mr. Stark—Iron Man, if you will, last I remember, on Titan, you ‘knighted’ me as an Avenger.”

It’s those words and those actions that haunt Tony the most. He holds himself still, fighting the urge to take a step back, his nails digging into his palms as his hands fist. An arm wraps around his waist, pulling him still against a chest behind him. Steve. He doesn’t remember seeing him leave his spot against the wall.

The trapped feeling returns. His chest begins to burn and as his hands shake, the coffee sloshes out of the mug and onto the ground. Steve’s voice is loud in his increasingly warm ears. No, it’s hot. Steve needs to let go; he needs to stop touching him. Everything is so hot around him. He tries to claw against Steve’s arm, relishing the feeling of freedom when it disappears from around his middle and rests on his shoulder, a strong feeling of support. He slumps onto the ground, his back against a cabinet.

He doesn’t hear the sound of the mug crashing on the floor, shards flying everywhere. Tony doesn’t see Peter throw his bag on the floor and kneel in front of him, trying to get Tony to look in his eyes.

“Mr. Stark,” he starts, echoing and morphing as it reaches Tony’s ears. He keeps blinking, trying to get the haze to leave his eyes.

“Tony,” Steve’s voice is the only one that sounds real. “Remember what I said: breathe with me.”

And it all begins again.

* * *

_"I’m sorry."_

They’ve been sitting around the kitchen table for fifteen minutes or so in complete silence. He can’t seem to find the words in him to say anything. The quiet is deafening; he feels like he can hear the soft murmur of the fridge behind him, the small squeaks Peter’s shoes make, and Steve’s heartbeat through his chest where somehow Tony’s managed to rest his head, the rest of his body tangled with Steve’s on a chair and half.

Right after his attack, Steve kept murmuring apologies for touching him, for crossing a boundary. But Tony understands; Steve’s still learning about what helps and what doesn’t during one.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whispers, “Are you feeling better?”

Tony nods, shaking his head slightly, but he’s not sure Peter can see it. Steve’s lips brush the top of his head before firmly pressing at his hairline. His grip on Steve’s sleeves tightens, helping him draw courage, “Yes, Peter. I am.”

He clears his throat, unwrapping himself from Steve’s arm and begins to stand. Wobbling slightly, he walks around the table towards the sink to grab a glass of water.

It’s time to face the music.

You know, Tony always thought he was brave, but right now, standing in front of the child that Tony fears of—no, sorry, fears _for_ —the most, he’s not sure he’s even the slightest bit brave.

“Did—Did I do something wrong, Sir?” Tony whirls around, clutching at the glass in his hand as if his life depends on it. Peter’s voice comes out so confused, so small. Is he afraid … of Tony? Might as well add that to the list of things Tony Stark has fucked up in his life.

“No,” Tony denies, “you have done nothing wrong. If anything—if anyone—is to blame, it’s me.”

“Tony,” Steve moves to get up from his seat, halting immediately when Tony waves him off.

Hesitantly, he takes a few steps forward into Peter’s space. “Listen, kid, you’re fifteen years old. You live with your Aunt who loves so much, and her world practically revolves around you. I almost ruined her life. I almost let you die in a war that you didn’t have to be a part of. I’m Iron Man and it is my job to protect the people of Earth as an Avenger, as one of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. And I couldn’t do that.”

Peter furrows his brows, “Is this about what happened when I disappeared for those few moments on Titan? Which, you know, I’m assuming happened to everyone in the universe because Thanos got all six stones and wanted to wipe half of civilization off? No ethics with him, no.”

“Yes,” Tony breathes out.

“Mr. Stark, as much as I think you’re brilliant and you know, you’re _Iron Man_ , like that’s so unreal. And you’re a hero and all, but you’re not responsible for me.” He stops, before frowning, “I mean, you are, technically, but at the end of the day, I made this decision on my own. You told me what to do and I didn’t listen.”

“I gave you the suit!”

Peter shrugs, “Yeah, but you also told me to go home. I didn’t; instead, I ‘stowed’ away on the weird donut ship.”

Tony sighs, blinking at Peter. “Okay?”

“Mr. Stark, you tried to take care of me. You were being entirely responsible: you told me to go home and gave me a suit to keep me alive. Without the suit, I mean, I wouldn’t be here.”

Peter turns around to wave Steve over, who doesn’t even hesitate to move. Peter turns around and take a step forward, wrapping his hands around Tony and burrowing his face right where he had on Titan. This time, though, there were no tears. There wasn’t any sobbing or crying, just a boy clutching onto him. He feels Steve arms go around the both of them, holding them tightly, his chest pressed against Peter's back.

“You saved me, Mr. Stark. I don’t know how long it might take you to understand that, and honestly, I think I speak for Mr. Rogers and myself when I say we’ll be here with you. Every step of the way.” Tony feels Peter’s breath against the crook of his neck and he brings wraps himself around Peter, relishing in the warmth of Peter. An indication that he’s alive.

“I don’t know how long it might take. I don’t know if I can even look at you without breaking down first,” Tony admits, his words muffled.

He feels Peter shrug in the hug, an awkward move. “That’s okay. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

And the world keeps turning.

* * *

_"Hey, Mr. Stark! I'm back!"_

It takes Tony over a dozen sessions with his therapist for the fear to go away. He can finally look at Peter without wanting to hide him away. It takes three more after that for him to go about his day without feeling like everything he does is going to hurt someone else.

While the nightmares haven’t entirely stopped, they’ve lessened dramatically, and Tony’s been sleeping a lot more soundly, but a large part of that might have to do with Steve’s presence in his bed.

Tony keeps tinkering, though. At every chance he gets, he does what he believes he can best: he creates better and more technologically advanced suits for the rest of the Avengers. If he can’t protect them on the battlefield himself, he might as well give them something that would.

Spiderman’s suit is the one he always spends the most time on. FRIDAY is updated each and every time he’s got a new design. Peter likes to joke around that one day, it might not even be FRIDAY anymore; they might have to name her SATURDAY or something. Tony glares at him.

Tony hadn’t expected it, but Peter keeps his promise. Steve and he are there every step of the way with the rest of the Avengers helping out. Pepper likes to check in on him, often taking him out on trips around the world and forcing him to accompany her in meetings just so that he would get out of the house. Clint and Natasha are trying to teach him how to spar for fun, not that he really likes it (he’s got the suit, damn it!). Thor drops by all the time, taking the time to empty their fridge, before leaving with a big smile on his face; Tony’s not sure if he’s gotten over Loki’s death yet, but everyone has their own grieving process.

Surprisingly, Bucky and Shuri work alongside him a lot—whenever they’re in the country, that is—the former letting him try to come up with new designs for his robotic arm while the latter criticizes his every step. It’s comforting. The others are there for him too, a support system that never leaves, never further than a single phone call.

He’s grateful. He’s grateful for every single friend he’s made, and while they’ve had their fair share of fights or not, they’ve got a bond stronger than anyone else.

But what he appreciates the most, he reminds himself, is the gold band that sits on his ring finger, a similar one worn by Steve. The reminder of a brighter tomorrow every time he closes his eyes at night and every morning he opens them. 

Like he promised, Steve stands by him. He’s the first person that responds when Tony can’t breathe in the shower; the first person that gives him the space he needs, backing away immediately. He never gets upset and takes every panic attack as a step closer to understanding Tony.

It’s a few months after their wedding, during a mission, that Peter accidentally slips. He’s flying in the air with aliens on his tail, zipping through the trees while conferring with FRIDAY. With his attention preoccupied with trying to save the world (as usual) and FRIDAY, Tony doesn’t see the rock aimed at him from the side, pushing him to crash against the ground before he can turn his emergency rockets on.

“Dad!” Peter’s voice rips through the thrum of the headset, “Dad! Oh fuck, are you alright? Fuck!”

Tony chokes out a laugh, coughing as he sits up, bringing up a hand to brush Peter’s exposed cheek. “I’m alright, kid.”

“Oh, man, I was so worried, Mr. Stark. You like _shot_ down into the ground and I was like ‘holy shit! What do I do?’ Glad you’re alive, Sir!” Peter shakes his hands in the air animatedly.

“First off, language, son.” Tony looks behind him to see Steve tuck his shield behind him and drop down on his knees, looking over Tony’s injuries. “Second, don’t you think it’s weird to call Tony ‘Mr. Stark’ and ‘Sir’ after you called him Dad.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, shooting Peter a smirk, “Yeah, _son_ , you did call me that. I don’t know, I think it’s kind of weird.”

“I-I didn-didn’t say Dad—that’s so … not what I said!” Peter stumbles over his words. “If anything, I said—I said something else that rhymes … like ‘bad’. Anyway, it slipped out!”

“Bad, really? Oh, Tony,” Steve says, a teasing lilt in his voice, “the other day, Peter came up to me and accidentally called _me_ Pops.”

“Did he now?” They both turn to look at him with laughter hidden behind their smiles.

“Mr. Rogers, you promised you wouldn’t tell,” Peter whines. His rosy cheeks brighten as he begins to blush furiously.

Steve shrugs, unapologetic, “Oops. I guess it just ‘ _slipped_.’” He winks at Peter who groans.

“Sorry to break your little family up, but just a quick reminder that we are fighting aliens right now. Protecting Earth, you know, our full-time job?” Sam’s voice cuts through, a slight chuckle slipping out. "Also, you're not supposed to use your  _actual names_ when we're fighting. Pepper said superhero names only. Got it, Spider-man? Call him 'Dad' at home."

Tony hides his laugh, nodding with mock seriousness at Peter, who raises his arms in the sky, sticks his tongue out, and runs (read: shoots webs and flies) away. Steve helps Tony up, smiling brightly as he watches Peter in the sky, and pulls Tony along with him back to the battle.

And with that, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes are back in action.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!


End file.
